


Tight Boxers

by ClubsRainbows



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rutting, handjobs, i just had a concept and ran with it, pretty much just pwp, pretty much just wanted to write it so i did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClubsRainbows/pseuds/ClubsRainbows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingers slipped under his boxers and grabbed his own erection, freeing it from the tight boxers he'd worn in an attempt to impress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight Boxers

**Author's Note:**

> The title sucks so much but it was literally all I could think of so yeah.
> 
> Just a quick Isaac/Stiles thing, wrote it as a test to see if i could write sexy things.
> 
> Un-beta'd so sorry for any spelling mistakes.
> 
> Also I wrote this as a thing that could apply to a lot of pairings, but the one I had in mind was Isaac/Stiles so that's what I'm posting it under, which is also why it has no names mentioned and vagueness and stuff.

He was so hesitant.

Some combination of hesitant and tentative, like he's not sure if he's allowed. If he's allowed to touch, to feel, to kiss, to lick. There's just that moment where he makes eye contact before he moves, asking, begging for permission. To run his tongue over the contours of the toned body in front of him, to grind his hips down and feel the press even through two layers of denim, to actually capture another's mouth in a kiss. And when there was a hand in his head, he rubbed into it, seeking the comfort and the warmth of a friendly touch. 

He ground down, hoping that his whine wasn't embarrassingly needy when he felt them fit together _just_ right, rubbing in all the right places, panting into each other's mouths. It wasn't frantic. There was no rush, no desperate need. He thrust down, feeling more than hearing the bed springs as the two bodies moved with each other. He could feel the way the other body squirmed and writhed, the sounds that were pouring out of that mouth and for a fleeting instant he wondered how it would feel wrapped around his cock and _sucking_. The thought gave him a rush of blood to his head, as well as his groin, and he pretended the moan that came out of his mouth was sexy and not pathetic.

With fumbling fingers, he finally got their flies undone and shoved both of their jeans down awkwardly. They didn't even clear either boy's hips but the sudden feel of them thrusting together through thin cotton instead of rough denim made any discomfort instantly forgotten. Panting, licking the exposed throat in front of him, he somehow slipped his hand under the waistband of the other boy's boxers. Not quite touching, definitely not gripping, but close. His other arm was wedged under the shorter boy's neck, his hand gripping the solid bone of a shoulder hard enough to bruise. There were warm fingers tracing patterns on his back, running down his spine slowly, rubbing his neck soothingly. He looked up, asking for, desperately needing permission. A nod. He pulled the boxers off and curled his fingers around the erection just waiting for him.

It was hot, so hot, and he could feel it throbbing at irregular intervals. Just experimentally, he squeezed it and was replied with a soft sigh. A hand rustled his hair, lingering and rubbing softly, encouraging. He licked his lips, nervous and trying his hardest not to be shaky as he started stroking slowly. It must have felt good because he was rewarded with a deep, contented groan and a small trust of hips into his hand. Fingers slipped under his boxers and grabbed his own erection, freeing it from the tight boxers he'd worn in an attempt to impress. He gasped into the other boy's mouth as he felt that warm grip, firm but not too tight and oh so _good_.

He ran his tongue over the exposed collarbone in front of him, catching skin in between his teeth and looking up. Wide pupils met his eyes, saying things the other boy couldn't and he bit down as he gently stroked the cock in his hand. He sucked hard, _needing_ , desperately needing to leave a mark of some kind. He pulled back slightly to see the purple mark left behind but quickly moved back in to leave another. Judging by the moans he could hear, even though he was certain he was contributing to them without conscious thought, it was certainly appreciated. Hips thrust up into his hand almost frantically, quick but sure and he was thrusting back into that grip, that perfect grip that felt so, _so good_ around him. 

Nails dug into his back and he arched into the touch, not rough enough to break skin and leaving marks that would fade in a matter of seconds. He felt them move, scratching down his back as the boy below him thrust up _hard_ and he could feel the needy whine that escaped his mouth. He caught the grin but couldn't care less, not when he felt those nails dig in again and he was thrusting, panting, moaning without even caring what he might have sounded like. It just felt so _good_ and he knew the marks would disappear as quickly as they formed, not like the skin he had deliberately blemished with his teeth and tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was close, embarrassingly so, with the scratches down his back and the fist pumping his cock and the mouth that was pressing kiss after kiss into his neck, his collarbones, his cheek. 

He came. _Hard._ Catching him by surprise, he was gasping and feeling that grip just sliding up and down his shaft over and over, feeling his orgasm build faster than he'd ever managed on his own and he couldn't even try to stop it. He heard his own moan and he sounded wrecked, riding it out with stuttered thrusts and his head buried in the crook of his partner's neck. His own hand was jerking, still stroking but irregular and stunted. It didn't seem to matter how bad a job he thought he was doing because he felt the cock in his hand harden and heard the moan and suddenly his hand was slick. Probably for the best because the arm he was using to support himself finally gave out and he collapsed on to the body underneath him.

It was some time later, could have been minutes or even hours for all he knew, that he finally mustered up the energy to roll off of the boy he was probably suffocating. Or not, he wasn't sure. He was still out of touch, still exhausted but exhilarated, but a hand was rubbing small circles in his hair so he figured everything was fine. He couldn't even muster up the energy to talk, just push his head into that soothing hand and hope that he didn't sound like he was purring.


End file.
